Chapter Three – Laina
After Mike left the loft, Fang came in. He came to sit beside me, asking, “You all right? The big guy didn’t look too happy out there.” His bare chest rose and fell with his steady breathing; he seemed totally at ease walking around without a shirt on.
I definitely wasn’t going to complain about it. Fang might not have been as muscular as Mike, but he was still six-feet-tall of lean deliciousness. A nice sight, one I could get used to.
Nodding once, I said, “Yeah. Mike is just…” I trailed off, wondering what he meant when he insinuated I knew who messaged him my location.
Crap. I had to tell him everything, didn’t I? Just like I told Fang earlier. Shit. I was so not looking forward to that conversation. Fang didn’t judge me, but Mike definitely would.
Fang leaned in toward me, whispering, “I understand.” And then he gave me a soft kiss on the cheek before he got up. “I can make us breakfast. What are you in the mood for?”
“It doesn’t matter.” The words didn’t even leave my mouth before my stomach growled and alerted me to the fact that I’d been up damn near all night and I hadn’t eaten since dinner. Yeah, as it turned out, I could go for some food.
As he walked through the wide-open space, Fang said, “I’ll make a bit of everything, then, just to be safe.” Once in the kitchen, he started to pull out various pans to cook multiple things at once. He didn’t seem to mind that he was still shirtless; I swore I heard somewhere you shouldn’t cook like that, in case any hot oil or water splashed back on you.
But what did I know? The man worked with hot metal all the time. Maybe he was used to heat.
I laid down and pulled the blankets up as I stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t a normal ceiling; it was all metal, like the roof of a warehouse. There were lots of things to look at up there while I tried to distract myself from the impending conversation Mike and I would have once he came inside.
By the time Mike made his return, Fang had brought me breakfast in bed on a wooden tray: two perfect pancakes, four strips of bacon, and some scrambled eggs on the side, finished up with a glass of orange juice.
I scooted up into a sitting position, my eyes only glancing at Mike as he entered, before focusing on the meal once more. It reminded me of the food my Devil would make me in the morning—he was a surprisingly good cook, and he always brought my food to me on a tray a bit like this.
“Mike, do you want any breakfast? I made enough for all of us,” Fang chimed in from the kitchen on the far side of the room.
“No” was Mike’s immediate answer as he made a beeline toward me. I could tell by the narrowed expression he had some questions to ask me, so to avoid those questions longer, I stuffed my mouth full of bacon to the point where I could hardly chew. By the time Mike sat down at the foot of the bed, my mouth was full. “Tell me exactly what happened last night. Don’t leave out a single detail.”
Fang responded for me, “Let her eat first.”
Mike’s jaw ground as he examined the food on the tray, noting how much of it there was. He didn’t seem impressed—though I supposed he wouldn’t be. He liked to cook, too. Why should breakfast in bed impress him at all?
Less than a minute later, Fang was offering Mike his own smorgasbord of food, though his wasn’t displayed prettily on a tray, just one huge plate. Mike didn’t go to take it right away, and Fang only lifted his eyebrows and said, “The longer you wait to take it, the longer I will stand here trying to hand it to you.”
That did it. Mike grumpily took the plate from him, then a fork from Fang’s other hand. Soon enough, Fang was joining us on the other side of the bed with his own plate.
All you could hear for a while was the sound of people eating. Forks scraping against the plate. From where I sat on the bed, near the headboard, I could see both Mike and Fang, and it was a little funny noting the facial expressions on them both.
Fang was utterly content, happy, even, while Mike wore a permanent frown as he shoveled the food into his mouth, scarfing it down like it was a race or something.
Out of the three of us, Mike was the first one done, to no one’s surprise. He held onto his empty plate with fingers so tight his knuckles were white. I was surprised the plate didn’t shatter from the sheer force of his grip.
Fang was the next to be done, and he got up and took his and Mike’s plate away. I, on the other hand, still had pancakes to eat. Fork in hand, I was in the midst of cutting them up into even pieces when Mike had enough of the delaying.
“Just eat the damn pancakes so we can talk about last night,” Mike said, his body turned toward me on the bed. “Stop procrastinating. I know there’s something you’re not saying.”
I stuck a piece of pancake with my fork and slowly brought it up to my mouth. “What would make you say that?” I sounded quite innocent and thoughtful, but it wasn’t enough to sway Mike from his questioning.
Fang returned to us, though he finally slipped on a shirt before re-taking his spot on the opposite side of the bed from Mike. “Let her finish.”
Mike harrumphed, “She’ll take all goddamned day at this rate.”
“If that’s what she wants, it’s her prerogative—”
Under his breath, Mike growled out, “Are your lips tired from kissing her ass so much?”
“My lips are fine, big guy. My tongue, on the other hand…”
I nearly choked on the pancake piece in my mouth, totally not expecting Fang to go that far. Mike instantly looked like he wanted to grab Fang by the throat and punch him, so as I coughed and cleared my throat, I managed to stop them from saying anything else by admitting, “There is something you should know.”
Mike turned his hazel eyes to me, his mouth a thin line. Fang gave me a look that told me he only egged him on because that’s what he thought I wanted—and it was. I could appreciate it, but I’d delayed for long enough. It was time to come clean to Mike.
I didn’t go for more of the pancakes. Now that the time was here for me to lay it all out, my stomach felt like it was in knots. I decided to tell him the main beats of the story: I’d snuck out with Kelly and went to a college party before I’d been kidnapped.
Mike instantly knew there was a big chunk of the story I passed over. “How did you end up kidnapped? Your friend wasn’t at the house. You were the only one taken. How did you get separated?”
My gaze flicked over to Fang, which Mike noticed.
“What?” Mike asked. “What is it?”
I shifted underneath the blanket, though I couldn’t move much thanks to the tray above my legs. “You… said you got a message. Was it from an unknown number?”
“Restricted,” Mike replied. “A text with the address of the house you were taken to. Why?”
“You aren’t wrong,” I whispered, my voice dropping to a low level… mostly because I didn’t want to say it. “I think I know who sent it to you. The man who took me the first time, my Devil—he found me about to hook up with someone at the party. He must’ve been following me. I think he sent you the message. He, um… has messaged me before from a restricted number.”
Mike practically leaped to his feet, and he whirled around to glare at me. “What the fuck, Laina? Why didn’t you tell me this before? When did he message you? What did he say?”
“He said I was his. It was right after we visited you for the first time.” That part I said while glancing at Fang. “A picture of the alley between your building and the next.” To Mike, I added, “But it wasn’t him. He didn’t take me again.”
“No, of course not. Why would he send me an address if he was the one who took you?” Mike spoke the question with a deep frown. “And… wait. You were going to hook up with someone at the party?” His anger over my Devil and me keeping secrets was well-placed, but the jealousy? Oh, he had no right.
My cheeks flared up with heat when I said, “Yeah, I was. And I would’ve if my Devil wouldn’t have shown up and stopped me.” My voice caught on something in my throat. “He…”
I might not have said it, but Mike pieced it together. “You didn’t hook up with a random guy. You hooked up with your Devil instead.” His glare flicked over to Fang. “You knew? She told you?”
Fang shrugged. “Most of it, yeah.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
“Whatever the Princess wants, the Princess shall have” was Fang’s easy response.
“Mike,” I said his name, causing his stare to whip back in my direction. “I’m sorry that you’re upset—hold up. No, you know what? I’m not. This goes back to you telling me I’m just a job. You don’t get to be upset with me for being with someone else when I’m nothing but a job to you.” I stabbed another pancake piece with my fork, much harder than necessary. As I brought that piece to my mouth, I gave Mike my best death glare.
Fang said, “She’s not wrong.”
Mike shook his head once. “Fine. I don’t get to be jealous or upset that you hooked up with someone else, but I do get to be pissed that you went out without telling anybody. I get to be furious that you put yourself in danger just to get fucked. If that’s what you wanted, you should’ve had me drive you here so this freak could give you what you wanted.” He gestured off-handedly to Fang.
“Ouch,” Fang muttered half-heartedly, and then to me he said, “but he’s not wrong either. You could’ve come here, Princess. I would’ve gladly offered up every part of me to you.”
A muscle on Mike’s face twitched at hearing that, but he ignored him and his remark entirely, telling me, “You were stupid, Laina. I thought you were better than that.”
If this damned tray wasn’t on my lap, I might’ve gotten up and tried to push the big asshole. As it was, I held onto the fork so tightly I could imagine plunging it into Mike’s neck. A nice, anger-fueled daydream.
“Really?” I asked as I cocked my head. “You think I’m better than that? Liar. You know I’m not better than that, because you know I did this to myself.” I lifted up my left hand, wiggling what was left of my pinky and ring finger.
The look Mike gave me after that was one of pure fury.
Fang coughed awkwardly. “Can you two just kiss and make up already? The bickering was fun for a little bit, but now it’s just getting old. I could leave the room if it would make you two more comfortable—”
“We’re not going to kiss and make up,” Mike growled out. “I’m going to go down to my car and wait for you to decide it’s time to go home, where you and I will sit down with your father and tell him everything.”
My nostrils flared. He knew I didn’t want to tell my dad anything. If he genuinely thought I’d do that, he’d lost his mind.
Mike waited a moment, but he must’ve sensed I refused to say anything back, because just like that he turned around and stalked away. I watched as he went, my mouth tugging into a pout. He was hot and cold, but it seemed like he leaned toward the latter today.
Screw that guy.
Once he was gone and it was just Fang and I, Fang said, “Give him some time to cool off. I’m sure once he settles down, he’ll realize he just threw a tantrum. Maybe he’ll even apologize.”
“I don’t care if he apologizes. I don’t care.” Saying it twice didn’t make it a fact, sadly, and as I sat there, I couldn’t help but stew. Fang had done wonders to calm me down and comfort me, and Mike had to rile me up all over again.
Men. They drove you nuts as easily as they were your sanity, apparently.
The look he was giving me made me ask, “What?”
Fang, to his credit, was calm as ever. “I never understood people who refuse to accept their own emotions. Wouldn’t it be easier to acknowledge them? Even you didn’t want to accept them, acknowledging their existence in the first place would be the first step to overcoming them.”
“Are you saying that I need to admit I have feelings for Mike?”
“I’m saying the opposite: Mike should accept he has feelings for you. He’s fighting it more than you. As for you… your Devil complicates things, as does Kieran.”
My heart ached at the mention of him. “Kieran is in a coma.”
“For now, maybe, but I don’t doubt he’ll wake up, and when he does… let’s just say I’d be surprised if you’re not the first thing he returns to. He’s got an edge to him I can appreciate, and from what little I’ve seen, he does care for you.”
“By edge, you mean…”
“A darkness.” His words mirrored what he’d said before about Kieran. “The beast in me recognizes a similar beast inside him, just as I see one waiting to emerge from Mike.” The corners of his mouth quirked upward in a sexy smirk, and he flashed me his fangs. “It seems you’re a magnet for men like us.”
A magnet for men like us. For psychos. For men with a hint of darkness to them. With my Devil added onto the list, it certainly seemed that way.
The strangest part was that I didn’t mind it. In fact, I was slowly coming to the realization that I craved that same darkness.
I made Mike wait until late morning. To his credit, he didn’t barge in and drag me out. A part of me wanted to give him enough time to cool down, but the bigger, more petty part of me simply wanted to make his ass wait.
Before I changed back into my clothes from last night, I had to return my panties to Fang—and he immediately tucked them beneath his pillow for later. What I wouldn’t give to see him when he missed me, to know what exactly he did with that thin, flimsy piece of fabric.
Some things were better off left to the imagination, I guessed.
Fang walked me down, and before I exited out into the alley, he took me by the hand and pulled me against him, dipping me back for a goodbye kiss that was both hungry and sweet. Before straightening me out, he nibbled on my bottom lip enough with his metallic fangs that I shivered into him.
“I’ll see you later, Princess,” Fang whispered against my mouth. “I should have something for you within the week.” And by that, he meant my metal fingers.
My dad was going to blow a gasket when I came home with one of Fang’s inventions on me. I couldn’t wait.
He gave me one more chaste kiss before releasing his hold on me. He reached for the door and held it open for me, his silver gaze on me as I walked around him. Once I was in the alley, near Mike’s parked car, I gave him a coy wave.
I got into Mike’s car, finding him sitting in the driver’s seat, silently staring out of the window in the opposite direction. He didn’t even glance at me as I got in. Once the door was closed, he started the car and pulled out of the alley.
The man said not a word, and minutes passed. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore. I said, “Mike, please. Can’t we be normal about this?”
His normal was not saying a word—though he did glance at me for just the quickest of seconds before making a right turn. Back to being the broody, quiet one, the one who never let his emotions get the best of him.
A lie, in other words.
“You have every right to be upset with me over sneaking out. It was stupid. I won’t do it again, for what it’s worth, but… you really don’t have a leg to stand on anywhere else. If I’m just a job, then you need to treat me like I’m just a job.”
It took him a few moments to mutter, “You’re right.”
For some reason, hearing him say that made my chest tight in an uncomfortable way, but I ignored the feeling and said, “And you work for Lola, not my dad. I’m still not convinced my dad isn’t behind all of this somehow. I want to act like nothing went on last night besides me going to a party.”
Mike heaved a giant sigh. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” As I whispered it, I swore I saw his hands clench around the steering wheel a little bit harder than they held onto it before, but maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I’d gotten used to the jealous Mike.
Maybe I wanted him to be jealous, because that meant he cared.
The drive home was a silent one after that, with neither of us saying a single word more. I wouldn’t say it was awkward. More like uneasy, like we both knew the other person wanted to say something else, so we waited for them to break the silence while stewing in our own thoughts. Not even the radio played in the background.
Given the time, my dad would probably be at work. Honestly, I doubted he would even know that I was gone last night; the one person who might’ve realized it would be Tessa—the woman didn’t have a job of her own, and because of that she paid a ridiculous amount of attention to the goings-on in the house. She would’ve sensed how quiet it was and went looking to see what was wrong, then she would’ve found an empty room and a missing Mike with no note, no messages, and no calls.
Maybe, once Tessa realized I was gone, she might’ve called my dad, but I doubted it. If I had to place a bet, I’d say she thought I was only rebelling, not that anything bad happened to me. She’d be half-right.
When we pulled into the driveway after driving across the city, my stomach dropped. I wasn’t looking forward to talking to Tessa. The woman was okay, I guessed; she kept my dad sane the two years I was gone, and he must’ve loved her enough to put a ring on it. To me, however, she was intensely overbearing, and sometimes it got to be too much.
Too many expectations. Too much pressure.
As Mike parked the car, I gathered up my courage to face Tessa and her wrath. It was kind of funny, in a depressing way: she acted like this was her house, not mine. Like she’d been living in it longer than I had.
Maybe that’s what I didn’t like about this house anymore. It never really felt like me, even before the kidnapping, and now that Tessa was here, I was an outsider.
Getting out of the car, I squared my shoulders and held my head high. I didn’t know if Tessa would be home or if she’d be out and about; usually during the day she was off doing whatever it was she did, but with my luck, she’d be here, waiting for me.
I didn’t wait for Mike. I made a beeline toward the door. Stepping inside the house after being kidnapped a second time was weird. Like I was caught in a dream and this wasn’t real. A strange feeling, one I couldn’t really describe.
My ears heard nothing in the house, and I dared to take it as a good sign. By the time Mike walked into the house behind me, I was already heading up the stairs to go to my room. Had to mess up the pillows so it didn’t necessarily look like I tried to sneak out last night.
Hey, maybe I’ll get out of this without any more lectures.
I kicked off my shoes once I was in my room and hurried to the bed, where I fixed the pillows and straightened out my sheets. I didn’t make my bed every single day, but I wasn’t one to tangle up the sheets, either.
I heard someone walking by in the hall, and I assumed it was Mike going to his room after a long night, but of course I wouldn’t be so lucky. The sound of footsteps didn’t fade away as that someone kept walking by. Nope. It stopped only when its owner walked into my room with her hands on her hips and an accusatory glare in her eyes.
I didn’t have to look to know it was Tessa—and she caught me red-handed fixing up the pillows. Of course.
“Where were you?” Tessa’s voice was a bit shrill, the kind of voice that instantly put me in a sour mood.
I was slow in meeting Tessa’s dark stare. “I… went out for a stroll?” My lie, though it came easily, would not be believed by a single soul thanks to the way I said it. I might as well have admitted I was at a college party, that I hooked up with my Devil, and then I got kidnapped. Not that I felt guilty over any of it, but that’s kind of how I sounded.
Tessa’s gaze dropped to my feet and sluggishly made its way up my body. “In those clothes? Please.” She cocked her head at me, her silence practically as loud as her words. She wore a matching athletic suit of a dull gray; her brown hair pulled back into a low, loose ponytail. My guess was she was either on her way to the gym or she’d just gotten back.
“What?” I made a big show of glancing at my clothes. Granted, I did wear the same clothes I wore last night, but it wasn’t like the outfit screamed college party. I didn’t think.
“You were gone. Mike was gone. With Kieran still in the hospital, the house was as quiet as it was when you were taken.” Tessa brought up my first kidnapping like it was a normal topic of conversation, when anyone else in their right mind would have danced around the subject a bit more carefully. “I’m going to ask a second time, and I want you to be honest: where were you?”
For a moment, Tessa and I have a staring contest. It was clear it was a contest of wills. Who was stronger? Who would bend first? Would Tessa give up and leave me alone or would I divulge my little secret of where I was?
Hmm. I didn’t want anyone to know I was kidnapped, but maybe it’d be fun to tell a little bit of truth.
“If you must know,” I paused for dramatic effect, “I was at a party.”
Tessa’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull at my admission. Seriously, they widened so much if a gentle gust of wind came up from behind her, her eyes would fall out and roll on the floor like marbles. “A party? Excuse me? Who told you it was okay for you to go to a party ? I know it wasn’t your father or me.”
“I’m nineteen. I can do what I want.”
“You are your father’s daughter. You live in his house. You might look like a circus freak, but deep down you are still a traumatized girl. Going to a party was the last thing you should’ve done.” Tessa must’ve not had a single nice bone in her body; every word she spoke came with a bitchy attitude.
“You can’t tell me what to do.” The second I said it, I wanted to smack myself. What a stereotypically teenage thing to say. Ugh. What can I say? Tessa brought out the internal rage in me like no one else ever had; it was her superpower.
Her reply came swiftly: “You may not respect me enough to listen to me, but I’m sure your father will agree with me when I let him know where you were.”
Now it was my turn to snap back, “What’s he going to do? Chain me to a piece of furniture and keep me locked in here for the rest of my life?”
Referencing my kidnapping was the answer, it turned out. Tessa’s mouth thinned into a line, and though she made it clear she had more she wanted to say, she only shook her head and spun around on her feet, marching right out of my room.
Good. Fuck that woman. I wasn’t going to listen to anything she said. If I was being honest, I never liked her, even before my Devil took me. She acted so fine and proper, like she was better than everyone else. The stick up her ass must’ve been there her whole life.
Once she was gone and I was alone in my room, I sat on the foot of my bed and sighed, my whole body slumping with the action. My eyelids closed, and for a split-second, I was back in that room. Not the basement room I spent two years of my life in, but the room at the party, where my Devil had finally taken me.
He was still out there, still watching me. He had to have been the one to alert Mike. There was no other explanation that made sense.
He came to me, made himself known. Why wouldn’t he save me? Why contact Mike? If he was worried I would demand to see his face… it was obvious the man didn’t want to share that part of himself with me yet. I would’ve respected it.
I pushed those thoughts out of my head, but one question refused to go away, no matter how badly I willed it to.
How did my Devil get Mike’s number?